By The Light Of The Harvest Moon
by Eloeehez
Summary: One-shot.  The musings of Batman on this particular night, as the light of the harvest moon illuminates Gotham.


So this was something I wrote at least 5 years ago, and forgot about. Remembered it and decided to post it here. Not very long and written at a basketball game, but hey, inspiration can strike anywhere.

Standard disclaimers apply, ect. Reviews are welcome. Flames will be fed to Natsu.

* * *

He stood on the rooftops, gazing out over the city for a moment, looking at it by the light of the harvest moon. In an odd way it was both vastly beautiful and terribly demonic, the yellowed orange light illuminating the gothic architecture. Dark and cold but glowing softly, almost invitingly. It was his city, both the good and the bad, the place that spawned him, the darkness that bore him. He was as much a part of it as it was of him. The fear, pain, and anger, but also the happiness, life, and love that still existed. His city seemed to almost embody everything of the world, from its darkest demons to its brightest stars, and he was its hero. Some even dared to call him its savior, and that was one pedestal he didn't want to be placed on. He would not always be able to save her, not always be there to beat back the darkness that threatened to consume the city. Some day it would fall into its homemade hell, but for now, he planned on trying to stop it as much as he could.

His name had been spoken all over the city, from the tallest tower to the deepest pit. For every person who spoke it, there was a different emotion behind it. To some it was love, to others it was blind hate, for others it was fear, and yet to some it was hope. From anger to happiness, peace to terror, help to hindrance, friend to foe, colleague to rival, death to life. Each was as much a part of him as the next, also a part of the city. His name was sometimes spoken like a whisper of wind, or screamed like a cry of pain and hate. To some even the cities name was like acid on the tongue, burning and loathsome. Few referred to it with love or the desire to go there for fun, but lots knew its name.

He would never, could never, forget the evil that lurked in those dark streets, taking so many. Lives lost were not something he wanted to forget, and so he made sure that he didn't. Innocence was ripped away by the cities reality, cruelly and quickly. No transition, only harsh reality. What had happened to him, he had hoped wouldn't happen to anyone else, and that's why he took Dick on. Knowing it could happen again was a weight that pressed in on him, and also the reality that it might not turn out the same with someone else as it had with him. One could easily go dark and be completely consumed by their rage and want for revenge, so that they would kill simply to fill a void in there life. That was where he stopped. Not above fear and pain, but never to kill. To kill would be his greatest undoing and to have another close to him killed tore at his soul. He was thankful Dick was on his side, but he knew eventually there would be someone who would not be on his side and there he would have to fight the worst battle.

Another thing he always tried to remember were those who he fought for. Never wanting to forget the people in the midst of the dark streets, the children who looked for his protection on the dark nights. The fact that he was out in the dark of the night had earned him his nickname which made him seem more fearsome. The Dark Knight was a force, a shadow swooping down on unsuspecting villains who were trying to harm those he was sworn to protect. Some were even those who didn't appreciate or want him, yet they knew that it would be worse without him there. The city could possibly become the next prisoner's isle.

He had been to lots of other cities. None were like this one in the slightest. The glass and steel architecture had none of the things that made this city. Whether it was the traffic patterns, building materials, villains, or people, one could rarely tell. Yet here it was different, you could feel it in the air, see it in the buildings, and smell it in the tangy breeze. Those other cities didn't need someone like him. Problems were small and the police could usually take care of it easy enough. Feelings of luckiness to be in cities like those made some of that feel, but he felt lucky to be here, and he could feel the pride of the city itself.

Despite all of the bad points, there were still quite a few things here that wouldn't be in other cities. This one had a sort of well worn and content feel. People here chose to be here and liked being here, despite all that happened here. The steel and glass designs of other cities gave a cold and impersonal feel, almost like giant belittling eyes watching, always watching, reflecting the light of the harvest moon, instead of absorbing it and making it a part of the city like his did. Instead of repelling its beauty, it became a part of that beauty. The air hung heavy as he stood there, watching, thinking, remembering. Anyone who would have looked up there might have seen the dark figure, gleaming softly in the light of the harvest moon, the lord of this place, gazing out over what was his.

Finally, he had to move. He had spent more than enough time here, watching, standing, and thinking. With a swift and practiced movement, Batman fired a grapnel and swung out over the streets of Gotham, and into the night.

**Finis**


End file.
